I read somewhere – I think it was Malcolm Gladwell that wrote it, either in New Yorker or his blog – about the benefits of being a public writer, i.e. doing his writing in a public place. Like a café.
Like me, right now.
And hey, he’s onto something. There is something to be said about the image of a public writer. The creative type, the intelligent one, the thinker. Here I am!
I have my messenger bag, my iPod, my laptop, my jeans, shirt, and sweater. Geez, I look almost like the Mac guy. (But carrying a Dell, of course, like most of us Mac wannabes.)
I rode my bike (check) to Mike’s Coffee (check), ordered a latte, and took the table in the back. Now, some people, like Gladwell, like to sit by the window, but in this case it was better to be in the back where everybody would see me when they walked in.
So, here I am, listening to music, checking my email, looking good. I feel the inspiration, my fingers are itching to do some dancing on the keyboard. I am The Public Writer.
Dammit.
I got nothing.
I pick another album to listen to. I change the language as well. Maybe listening to Finnish music was screwing up my English creativity.
Maybe Van Halen would get me going?
Five minutes later, I find myself gazing out the window, wondering about a jeans jacket I used to have. Or, it was a jeans vest that I would wear over my Michigan State jacket – just like Bryan Adams on the cover of Summer of ’69 single. Well, not exactly, Bryan Adams had a red lumberjack shirt under the vest. I got one of those in London 1987. That’s when I bought the single as well. Bought the jeans jacket/vest in Michigan in 1986. That’s when I bought the 5150 album that I’m listenign to now. Yeah, good times.
Still nothing to write about. No mission. My enthusiasm is fading.
It’s because I’m hungry. Must be. I wonder what Mike has on his lunch menu. I get up to see when a man walks in.
No! I see a messenger bag. He orders a latte … he grabs a seat by the window .. he pulls a white MacBook out of his bag! Another Public Writer!
I feel a challenge. You think you’re better than me, mister? I look at the other writer, he looks at me. He nods to me. I return the nod.
Let’s go.
Public is an interesting word. Think about the immense range of alternatives you can attach to it. Public house, public library, public man etc, . Let’s all be public something. I wonder would the word public carry across other meaninngs about that public something?
i once had a friend that tried to visualize what it was being a public writer. he was editor of a boat magazine, circulation 30 000 every copy, 8 times a year.
he took his typewriter, sat down in the middle of swedens largest soccer stadium and imagined it was filled with all of his readers. for every word he typed, he could hear the crowd cheer, make comments. it was a powerful experience and gave him an hint of what he was up to and his responsibilities beeing a public writer.